


hundred light years from home (it's you, it's you)

by eleven_twelve



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, M/M, but its okay, it gets hard sometimes, its alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 10:24:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10410051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleven_twelve/pseuds/eleven_twelve
Summary: Mark leaves everything he's ever known to follow his dreams, finds a new home somewhere along the way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> it's all okay, it's all alright.

It's raining relentlessly when Mark Lee gets off a plane on the other side of the world from his home. He is thirteen years old and alone, a company staff member waiting for him in the hall of Incheon airport the only person he's ever met before in a country of which he doesn't even speak the language.  

They take a taxi to the company. Mark leans his cheek against the cold window and stares at the unfamiliar scenery outside, skyscrapers and bright neon lights filling his mind, he thinks back to his own Vancouver suburb, snowed in when he stepped on the plane twenty-three hours before. The lights reflect off the damp streets all around him and the world looks blurred around the edges, Mark feels like he's in a dream. 

When they arrive at a tall glass building he's greeted by a man who talks to him in fast Korean, the translator next to him explains that he's the person taking care of the trainees. Mark nods shyly and bows, remembering what his parents told him about politeness, introduces himself in broken Korean and a cracking voice. 

In the dorm live six other boys, all older than him, they aren't there when Mark opens the door to his new home. He changes into his pyjamas, puts his stuff away and sits down on the bottom bunk of the bed near the widow, dials his mother's phone number. She doesn't pick up because Mark forgets about the time-zones separating them, he heaves a sigh and lies down. The silence in the dorm reminds him of the winter back home, light and quiet, he already feels homesick after less than a day. 

The front door slams open down the hall and the loud chattering of a bunch of teenage boys floats into Mark's ears through the crack underneath the door. He sits up and bumps his forehead against the bottom of the top bunk, lets out a small yelp, half at the pain, half at the feeling of his heart racing in his chest.  

Two boys come into the room and collapse on the bottom bunk of the bed on the opposite wall, seemingly too exhausted to notice Mark's presence. They are tall and sweaty and Mark feels intimidated, can't imagine himself coming home like that every night. He looks down at his watch, it's half midnight, in the kitchen someone starts cooking dinner. 

When one of the boys gets up to take a shower, the other glances at Mark and throws him a lazy smile, "Hey," he says, voice deep, black hair disheveled underneath his red cap, "We're all a bit too tired to have a proper introduction, but I take you haven't eaten yet and Taeyong is making some bokumbap for the guys and I assume you can have some too." Mark looks up in surprise, "You're American?" He asks, relieved that there's at least one person here he can communicate with. "I'm from Chicago," the other says, turning the snapback on his head to show Mark the bull on the front, "the name's Johnny, or Youngho, whatever you prefer." Mark walks over to his bed to shake the hand he holds out, "I'm Mark," he says, "from Vancouver." Johnny squeezes his hand and pulls him onto the mattress beside him, "Well, Mark from Vancouver," he laughs, "welcome to Seoul." 

Later that night, after a brief introduction from his dormmates, of whom he only remembers Johnny and his English speaking friend Ten from Thailand (who's name isn't actually Ten but Johnny told him that everyone calls him that anyway), the cook Taeyong and a guy that slightly resembles a bunny, he lies in bed with a stomach full of fried rice and feels warm for the first time since arriving in Korea, it's all okay. Outside the rain has slowed to a drizzle, Mark listens to the drops tapping against the window for a while, thinks about what uncertainties lay ahead of him, thinks about the sun rising over the white mountains back home, falls asleep underneath a light-polluted sky in a world he's never seen before. 

\--- 

It takes Mark about a month to fully settle, the others are all very nice to him, but being the youngest also results in a lot of teasing and unwanted hugs. He gets to know his dormmates better and meets the other trainees under his company, finds that there are a lot more of them than he had initially expected.  

His daily routine shifts from hanging out with friends and swimming to going to school in a language he barely understands and then practicing dancing, singing, rapping, whatever they tell him to do until he almost feels like he's going to die. Johnny lets him know it's going to be hard but manageable. He's been doing it for nearly five years now, tells Mark that it's unbearable sometimes, when friends leave or when you keep messing up and get yelled at again and again, but it's all worth it he supposes, getting to live his dream. 

\--- 

Lee Donghyuck arrives in late September of Mark's first year, when the leaves outside his school are already turning the colour of his uniform, all tan skin and bright smiles and Mark feels intimidated again for the first time in a long while, although the other is almost a year younger than him and a good head shorter.  

They don't live in the same dorm, but Mark finds himself wanting to befriend the other anyway, is drawn to him for reasons beyond comprehension. Donghyuck easily outshines all the other new trainees, draws attention to himself by singing in the hallways in a loud, high-pitched voice, seemingly isn't afraid of what they think of him. He shamelessly acts cute to get an extra portion of jajangmyeon at lunch but looks ready to kill anyone who dares make a comment about his skin tone (not that anyone would, they're too full of admiration for his confidence about it). 

Mark often catches himself staring at the younger, during dance practices or in the subway on the way to school. He doesn't talk to him though, not even when Johnny tells him to make friends with the younger ones, considering it's far more likely for him to debut with them then with his older friends, he still hopes for it to happen anyways. 

\--- 

Mark is on his way to the training center when he hears the sounds of footsteps on the pavement rapidly approaching. "Mark, wait up!" A voice yells, high-pitched and slightly out of breath, it could only ever be Donghyuck talking down to him like that. Mark just knows, even though they've never exchanged more than a couple of hello's in the hallways and some constructive criticism.  

He turns around to find the younger running towards him, grey sweatpants flapping around his skinny legs, bright yellow uniform jacket on his right arm, tie still around his neck. Mark halts and lets the other catch up to him, looks him up and down and rolls his eyes at how messy he looks.  

Donghyuck seems to have noticed because he raises his eyebrows and puts a hand on his hip, "Hey, don't you judge me like that, Mark Lee, the teacher had me stay late because she caught me throwing paper ninja stars at her, so I had almost no time to get changed." Mark stifles a laugh, because although he doesn't really know the other at all, it seems so like Donghyuck to do something like that.  

"Stop laughing." He says, in that bright voice of his and Mark just laughs harder because it's an absolutely ridiculous sight, Donghyuck trying to act all serious while looking like he just got robbed of half his school uniform.  

"Sorry, man," Mark says, coughing to stop the giggles erupting from his throat, "You just look very stupid right now." Donghyuck scoffs and pushes Mark's chest, "Fuck off," he says in accented English and Mark thinks that it sounds cute somehow, although the younger's eyes are shooting daggers at him. 

They stand around for a bit while Donghyuck takes off his tie and stuffs his uniform in his studded leather backpack ("stylish," Mark tells him. "I know," Donghyuck retorts, Mark should've seen it coming.) When he's done, Donghyuck grabs Mark's clammy hand and pulls him along the street. The afternoon sun is burning above their tired heads and Mark tells himself that he's only sweating because of the late spring heat. (The tingles in his fingers tell him otherwise, but he doesn't really pay mind to his feelings when his days are already filled to the brim.) 

\--- 

The snow is falling heavily when Mark wakes up to his alarm at four in the morning. Now that the exams have started he is so busy during the days that he sacrifices the already small amount of sleep he gets in order to squeeze in another early morning dance practice. His room is half-empty, the greater part of the older boys gone for some project Mark hardly knows anything about.  

He gets dressed and stares out the window for a while, through the flakes of white he can barely make out the buildings on the other side of the road, it's cold and dangerous out, but Mark feels at ease in this weather, it reminds him of home.  

In the fridge he finds nothing but an apple and some leftover steamed vegetables (which he doesn't like very much), so he decides to leave those for Dongyoung, who's in bed with a fever, and leaves with tired eyes and an empty stomach.  

It takes Mark twice the time it normally takes him to arrive at the training center, shoes soaked and toes numb, nose and cheeks so cold that he fears he's never going to warm up again. The snowflakes in his hair melt when he steps into the warm hall of the building and the cold water drips down his neck to his back.  

The locker rooms are devoid of life, a sole black studded leather backpack sits on the wooden bench against the wall, Mark recognises it as Donghyuck's, feels relieved to not be the only one waking up at this ungodly hour to not let his dream slip from his faint grasp.  

He finds the younger in the dance studio, spread out on the floor as a song he's never heard plays loudly in the background. He's breathing heavily, chest moving up in down in rapid motions, bright orange t-shirt drenched in sweat. Mark feels bad for him, feels bad himself too, it's way too early to be doing anything but sleeping, fatigue is threatening to pull him under. 

Mark lingers at the door for a while, watches how Donghyuck composes himself and repeats his routine once more, limbs moving in fluid motions on the fast beats of the music until he falters at a difficult move he can't quite seem to master and unwillingly gives up.  

"Do you need help with that?" Mark asks, voice too quiet to reach the other's ears. He sighs and walks up to Donghyuck, who jumps up when he spots Mark in the mirror, straightens his shirt out and rakes a hand through his unkempt hair. "What was that?" He asks, and his voice sounds deeper than usual, a bit desperate (maybe for help with dancing, maybe for something else).  

The music cuts off and the room is silent, Mark coughs and it bounces off the mirror-covered walls, the damp air feels heavy on his cold body. "I asked if you needed any help," Mark replies and he looks straight into the eyes of Donghyuck's reflection. "Help with dancing?" Donghyuck asks incredulously, plump lips turning upwards at the corners, "From you? No thanks." Mark knows it's a joke, and that it's supposed to sound witty and sarcastic, but the younger's voice cracks slightly and he slumps a bit, and everything about him screams exhaustion.  

"Are you alright?" He asks carefully and Donghyuck seems taken aback by the question. "I don't know," he retorts, "if not having slept in two days and feeling like you're going to collapse at any given moment is alright then yes, yes I am."  

Mark frowns, "Have you at least eaten something?"  

Donghyuck nods and sits down with his back against the wall, legs crossed, head back. "I had some bread this morning, and an apple," he sighs, "it was all I could find." Mark hesitates for a moment, wonders if he should say anything, then his stomach rumbles loudly and Donghyuck looks up. "Have _you_ eaten?" Mark shakes his head slightly, "I left what we had for Dongyoung," he explains, "He's sick." 

Donghyuck gets up and leaves the room, Mark sighs and sits down. His stomach is aching and the bright lights hurt his head, so he closes his eyes and hopes he doesn't fall asleep. In the other room he can hear the rustling of a paper bag, then the soft tread of Donghyuck's socked feet on the wooden floor fills the room. Mark is surprised when something falls in his lap, it's a bag filled with energy bars. "I keep these for when there's no food left," Donghyuck says as he slides down the wall next to Mark, "but I suppose you can have them." There's something nonchalant about the way Donghyuck says it, but his voice is soft around the edges and his knees are pressed against Mark's and it feels okay, he feels okay.  

Mark bumps his shoulder against Donghyuck's as a silent thanks and hands him a chocolate bar before taking one for himself. They gobble the snacks down in three bites, laugh at each other's greed. "Man I was starving," Mark says, and the younger agrees, takes another bar and leans his head on his hands.  

"You know," he says, and it sounds a bit choked up, "I've wanted to become a singer ever since I can remember." Mark looks up from his pistachio bar and stops chewing, Donghyuck looks like he's going to cry. Mark can feel his throat starting to tighten. "I've always wanted it, but I'd never imagined it would be this hard. I'm under so much pressure from my parents who pay for me when they can barely afford the house they live in," a couple of tears roll down his tan cheeks, "I'm so scared I'm going to mess up, Mark, I don't want them to be disappointed in me," his usual bright voice has made room for a silent whisper, the light in his eyes seems to have gone out, his sunshine smile is nowhere to be found.  

"You're going to make it, Hyuck," Mark whispers back, takes Donghyuck's hand in his and squeezes it reassuringly, "You were born for this, dude, you're the only person I've ever met that can make me laugh so hard that it hurts," Donghyuck leans his head on Mark's shoulder, it's so warm, so comforting, "And you're such a good singer, they'd be foolish not to let you debut."  

It's silent for a while, Mark holds Donghyuck's hand tightly, caresses it softly with his thumb, the younger relaxes against him. "We're going to be okay," he says eventually, "You and I, we're going to make it big," the smile is audible in Donghyuck's voice again and it makes Mark feel nice, makes him feel like he's right, makes him feel like Donghyuck just being there will make everything better. 

(It kind of does make everything better.) 

\--- 

It's nearing midnight when Mark awakens in the stifling late July heat, lips chapped from the humidity, shirt drenched in sweat. He grabs his pillow and a blanket and moves to the air conditioned living room, tries to escape from the dampness of a four person bedroom, finds Johnny spread out on the couch and Taeil on the floor right next to it. He puts his stuff down and walks to the kitchen for a glass of water and sighs at the feeling of the cold tiles underneath his bare feet.  

Yoonoh is sitting at the counter, munching on some sweet cakes, he smiles lazily at Mark when the latter opens a cabinet to grab a glass. "It's so hot, man," he says and Mark nods. It's been sweltering hot for days on end, humidity pressing, sun burning red on his delicate skin.  

The dance practices seem endless these days, summer holidays allowing him to keep going until the sun sets late in the evening, until he's all burned out and ready to sleep for hours. The days are usually spent with the other boys his age, playing games in the park outside the training center during breaks and lying around on the cool wooden floors of the dance studio.  

Mark sits down on the floor with his glass of water, puts it to his forehead to cool down. He thinks back to earlier in the day, when he and the others had a water fight in the hall and got scolded by the staff. Donghyuck and he escaped their glares and ran outside in the afternoon, bought ice cream with the 5,000 won note they found on the pavement. They returned when the clouds turned pink, Donghyuck was shining in the dying light, summer seemed to be his home.  

"Why are you smiling like that?" Yoonoh asks from where he's looking through the fridge for something else to eat. Mark looks up, tilts his head, "Like what?" He says, confused, he feels his sun-burned cheeks turning red. "You thinking about someone special?" Yoonoh teases. Mark tells him to shut up. "I was just reminiscing about today, okay?" He thinks about Donghyuck's soft yellow shirt and how much his voice makes him feel at home, "Hyuck and I got ice cream, I hadn't had any in forever."  

"Ah," Yoonoh says, and it sounds like he's just had an epiphany of some sort, on his face is a look Mark doesn't quite understand. "What, 'ah'?" He asks, wanting to be in on whatever the older is talking about. Yoonoh shakes his head, "It's nothing," he turns his head towards the living room where the others are sleeping, smirk pulling at his lips, "Jonnhy just told me about you and Donghyuckie pulling lots of shit when you're with the other kids." Mark holds his hands out, "That's just Hyuck," he says, "not me." Yoonoh smiles fondly, "That little shit is going to get us all one day." Mark quietly agrees, "Probably." 

When he finishes his glass of water, Mark gets up and goes to lie down on the floor next to Johnny, who lost his place on the couch when he got up to go to the bathroom. "You good, Marco?" He asks, turning on his side to look at Mark. "Yeah, I'm okay, just a little hot, that's all," he replies, wiping away the sweat that has formed on his forehead. "Why were you talking to Yoonoh about me?" Johnny shrugs, "I'm just looking out for you, I guess," he says, "How's training going?" Mark scoots a little closer to him, "It's going," he says, "I'm glad Donghyuck is there." The older smiles, "How is he doing?" Mark has to hold back a smile at the memory of Donghyuck's voice cracking trying to hit a high note, "He's great," he says, "they're going to debut him before any of us if he keeps going like this." "That's good," Johnny says, stifling a yawn, "It's a good thing you have him," his face turns serious, "If you ever have to talk about something, you can always come to me, you know?" Mark nods, he knows.  

It takes some time, but Johnny's breathing eventually evens out and Mark can't stop thinking about their conversation. He wonders if they know something, if they know how he might feel a little different about Donghyuck than he should. It's been on his mind for quite some time now, the way Donghyuck makes him feel alright, even when his muscles are burning after hours of dancing. He wonders if it'll go away if he doesn't think about it, figures that after all this time something should've changed. Maybe he should tell Johnny about it, see if there's anything he can do other than confess, which he definitely won't ever do. (He knows very well that what he feels for Donghyuck is a crush and that it's kind of ruining him, but he's also so glad to have the younger as his best friend, doesn't want to give that up because of the way he loses his head every time Donghyuck smiles.)  

"Johnny?" He whispers to the darkness around him, to the floors and the walls and the sleeping ears of the others in the room. There's no answer. Mark doesn't want to wake him up, but he needs to sleep, and his mind keeps screaming at him about Donghyuck. He shakes Johnny's shoulder, the older awakens with closed eyes, brown hair unkempt. "What's wrong?" He asks, deep voice laced with sleep. Mark sighs, "I might like Donghyuck," he whispers. It's a weird thing to say, he thinks, because he knows very well how much he likes the other, it's as if his own head is trying to betray him. Johnny laughs quietly, "I thought you did," he says, "It's okay to like him you know, I really hope that he likes you back." Mark frowns a bit, "Am I not going to be in trouble?" He asks, and Johnny sighs deeply, "Probably," he says, "but don't let that hold you back, okay?" 

It's never really occurred to him before that they're both boys, that _he_ likes another boy. He knows that it's often frowned upon, but he just likes Donghyuck so much, it's not even something he had to think about until he said it out loud, it came natural to him. And he knows that it's going to be a problem, but for now he can't be bothered, so he just closes his eyes and thinks about home, and how that's a person now rather than a snowy Vancouver suburb. 

\--- 

Mark is sitting on a blue plastic chair in the terminal of Incheon Airport, latte forgotten by his side, trying to ignore Donghyuck and Jisung yelling loudly right next to him as they're flicking each other on the forehead. It's three in the morning and he's been awake for so long that he can't remember when the last time he had a proper night of sleep was, his head is throbbing.  

They're waiting for their flight to Bangkok, which has been delayed. Taeil and Hansol bought them all coffee, trying desperately to keep them awake until the plane arrives so they can sleep during the flight. The chair is hard and Mark shifts, unable to get comfortable, Yuta is looking at him from where he's sitting, he looks worried. Mark feels annoyed for some reason. It's been too busy lately, the promotions and showcases and Donghyuck just being there, it's suffocating. 

He gets up with an irritated huff, leaves to go to the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror looks sad, overworked, it's hard to be around the same people all the time, he can't stand them sometimes. (it's unfair of him to think that, because some of them have been training for a lot longer than he has, but it seems as if his dream is slipping further away the longer it takes, and although they're getting a lot of recognition these days, Mark is worried he's going to fuck up.)  

It's moments like these where he wants to give up and go home, just pack up and leave back to Vancouver, hug his mother and sleep the days away. He knows he can't, because he's come so far already, besides, he and Donghyuck are going to debut together, they have to, it's the only thing that keeps him going sometimes.  

Behind him the door opens and Donghyuck steps into the empty bathroom, Mark looks at him through the mirror, focuses on the bruise-like bags under the other's tired eyes, the small tufts of black hair sticking out from underneath his cap. He looks younger like this, reminds Mark of when they first met, when Donghyuck appeared to be on top of the world, it's all a lot different now. 

"Yuta wanted me to check up on you," he says quietly, his voice makes Mark smile. He turns around and faces the younger, "Yuta, huh?" He laughs, "Are you not worried about me, Hyuckie?" Donghyuck swallows visibly, sun-kissed cheeks reddening slightly. Marks expects him to deny with some kind of witty remark, but he doesn't. "I always kind of am," he admits, looking down at his white vans on the grey tiles, "But I know you can pull through, that's why I never ask."  

 They stand around for a while, gazes transfixed on the floor. Mark counts the cracked tiles underneath the sink, stops when he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. There are twenty-four. Donghyuck hugs him tightly, Mark melts into the heat radiating from his body, soft like summer days, Donghyuck tends to remind him of those a lot. The sun's warmth doesn't even compare. 

"I'm glad you haven't given up on debuting yet," the younger tells him. It feels like he's confiding Mark with secrets that he's not supposed to hear, like now and then, in-between snarky remarks and flamboyant appearance, the Donghyuck that only Mark gets to see comes out and tells him about how scared he is. It makes Mark feel warm inside knowing that the other trusts him, it also hurts a bit.  

He used to think Donghyuck was some kind of enigma, mysterious and intangible in the ways he went about things, slight and soft, but always evident to his surroundings, now Mark knows that he's just a boy, trying to find his way in a society built on image and reputation, always watching, always judging. It doesn't really take much to figure him out at all. 

"I almost wanted to give up, having to be around you all the time," Mark retorts, trying to lift the mood up from where it's hanging by their knees, hot and heavy tension pushing on their chests. Donghyuck laughs and Mark's headache feels a lot lighter, he pushes Mark away. "I take it all back, I hate you," he fake cries out and Mark starts laughing too. "How overdramatic." Donghyuck winks, "You know me." 

They return to the seating area where Taeil tells them to hurry to the gate because the flight is boarding and swears he's going to kick their asses if they miss it because of 'you babies' romantic bullshit', Mark doesn't miss the fondness in his voice. ("You're just jealous because Mark loves me while Johnny left you here alone to be in Thailand with Ten," Donghyuck argues, and Taeil threatens to hit him again as he shows the security their boarding passes and shoves them towards the jet bridge. Mark knows Donghyuck's only joking, but his heart still flutters anyways.)  

\--- 

In early April, when the days start getting warmer, Mark debuts without Donghyuck. It's strange and it's scary and it's the greatest thing that's ever happened to him. The promotions are stressful and the days are long and he thrives on just three hours of sleep a night, but the delightful feelings that fill him every time he gets to go up on stage in front of the people who adore him and gets to sing the song that was written just for them, knowing that he's made it, that all his hard work payed off in ways he couldn’t have imagined, it makes it all so worth it. 

Of course he feels disappointed that Donghyuck isn't by his side through all this, the euphoria and the ecstasy filling him to the brim, threatening to overflow every time he opens his mouth. He doesn’t want Donghyuck to feel inadequate, but the younger just throws him a thumbs up when he's practising and hugs him the tightest when he comes back home to a phone call from Canada and the smell of samgyeopsal. 

\--- 

It's Donghyuck's sixteenth birthday and they're eating spicy chicken and lunch boxes that the manager bought for them as a present for their hard work. They've been preparing for the debut of their second sub-unit ever since the first promotions were over. Donghyuck gets to debut too, this time, Mark smiled brighter then ever when he saw how Donghyuck held back tears when he heard the news. He cried in Mark's arms later, out of happiness that time, it all felt so okay. 

When practice is over, and they get to home, Donghyuck pulls Mark out of the group when he exits the dance studio. "Come with me," he whispers, breath hot against Mark's cold ears. He just agrees, doesn't even ask questions, because this is Donghyuck and it's his birthday, and Mark would never tell him no anyways. 

Outside it's raining, thick clouds are clinging to the skyscrapers, colouring the sky a dark grey as far as the eye can see. Donghyuck is pulling on his hand, dragging him to god knows where. The streets are unusually empty, people under umbrellas are quickly passing by. Mark and Donghyuck go slow, they've got nowhere to be.  

"Where are we going?" Mark asks when they've been walking for almost twenty minutes, his freshly dyed hair is sticking to his forehead, he pushed it out of his eyes. They're soaked to the bone, shoes soggy, wet clothes clinging to cold skin. The rain is warm and refreshing, Mark feels his worries fade into the background as the evening sky turns a soft purple.  

"It's going to storm," Donghyuck replies, ignoring Mark's previous question, "I like thunderstorms a lot."  

Mark turns to look at the other, who hasn't let go of his had for half an hour. His denim shorts are clinging to his muscular legs, bruised from dance practices, his shirt sticks to his chest. Mark realises how much Donghyuck has changed. He's grown a lot taller, but he's also grown up, muscle forming where bones used to protrude, golden skin shining in the dying light. His hair has been dyed a dark chestnut for debut and Mark remembers how he couldn't breathe the first time he saw it.  

(He's always been attracted to Donghyuck, but not like this, not in the way that just looking at him could make his senses go into overdrive.) 

He stops in the middle of the deserted road, lights reflected all around him and Donghyuck let go of him, turns around when he notices Mark has stopped walking. "What's wrong?" He asks, voice still as high-pitched and pleasant as when he first heard it. Mark shakes his head, "It's nothing," he says, it's everything. Donghyuck smiles his sunshine smile, plump lips and shining teeth and motions for Mark to follow him.  

The street lights turn on, cast an orange glow over the damp street, set the world around them on fire. The scenery looks straight out of a movie and Mark figures that this is it, that if he doesn't tell Donghyuck today, luck might never be on his side again.  

"Hyuck?" He yells, words battling the falling rain on the way to Donghyuck's ears, "Come here." He stretches out his hand, the other takes it without a second thought, it's warm, it fits, everything is alright.  

Donghyuck looks at him, dark eyes boring holes into Mark's head, he seems to be able to read his thoughts, brings his hands up to tangle them in Mark's hair, the colour of the setting sun. "I want to kiss you," he says, and Mark feels his heart expand so much that it pushes all the oxygen out of his lungs, he only needs Donghyuck, everything is okay. "I've been wanting to kiss you for a while now, but I thought you'd ask me first," he brings their foreheads together, Mark feels like he's going to explode. "You're a loser," he says and kisses the corner of Mark's mouth, "I'm going to tell the others that you cried when you confessed." Mark nods and laughs and their noses bump, he pushes his lips onto Donghyuck's and vows to never pull away again. 

(When they do pull away, Donghyuck looks up at the sky and sighs, "Why did it have to rain, this is so cliché." Mark kisses him to shut him up, is glad that he's finally found an effective way to do so.) 

\--- 

Mark tells Johnny and Yoonoh that night, after they ask him why Donghyuck is constantly sighing in an overdramatic manner. They smile like older brothers, and it makes him think of home again, where his own older brother is probably watching ice hockey on their old TV.  

He falls asleep surrounded by sunshine, his bones aching from the rain, cheeks burning with fever. The wind whistles through the open windows, the thunder is rumbling in-between the rolling hills, Donghyuck is breathing softly against his lips, and it's all okay and it's all alright. 

(Donghyuck calls him a pussy during breakfast the next day, because he had to be the one to take the first step, Mark just laces their fingers together in front of all the others, laughs at the bashful smile creeping up on the younger's tan cheeks. Johnny tells them to "keep it" and Mark grins at him, turns to look at Donghyuck, morning sunshine turning him into gold, "Of course.") 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hi, I wrote this inbetween my french research competence and dutch literature studies and god i'm tired so this might not be any good, but markhyuck just keeps making me want to write fics about them so thats what ill do, hope you enjoy!  
> kudos and comments are always very much appreciated <3


End file.
